Though We May Roam
by Casting Aspersions
Summary: She’d loved the travel the people and places so different from her own. This wasn’t the life for her however. She knew it sounded corny but it turned out there really was no place like home.
1. No Place Like Home

**Disclaimer** No Gilmore Girls characters were harmed in the production of this story. All characters remain the property of Amy Sherman Palladino. 

**A/N** I've been a long-time lurker in the Luke and Lorelai thread at TWoP. This was inspired by speculation of what the posters there thought could happen next season.

My thanks to three wonderful betas. This is my first experience with the beta-ing process and it was well and truly worth it. Thanks to **NicoleMack, Monnie** and **Undisclosed** for all their editing, advice and comments.

**Part One: No place like home**

Indigo, cerulean, sapphire, teal. The Cote d'Azur stretched out as far as the eye could see and the Blue Coast was certainly living up to its name as the intense colors of the sea and of the sky stretched out to meet on the horizon. The sun was shining brightly above in the cloudless sky and a light breeze was sending ripples across miles of calm azure sea. In the distance a cruise ship steamed away from the land, and yachts sailed idly across the water.

Lorelai sat at a table under a blue-and-white striped umbrella enjoying the warmth without being burnt to a crisp by the afternoon sun. She was sitting amongst a field of tables with umbrellas that somehow reminded her of a patch of oddly colored mushrooms sprouting up amongst the Oompa Loompas inside Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. Although the tables were mostly filled up, the ambience was relaxed, as it usually was during this time when the summer season was starting to wind down. The Cannes film festival had finished months ago and though there were still many tourists remaining, their thoughts were slowly turning towards home and the first days of September when they would go back to their homes and resume their lives once more.

She sat with her customary cup of coffee in front of her, along with the paperwork that she knew she needed to read, but which she had left untouched for the last half hour. Instead she sat, her chin propped up on her hands, gazing out to sea and soaking up the brilliant day. Her thoughts turned to when she and Rory had been on the Riviera on that unforgettable trip two years ago. They'd been lucky with the weather then, encountering bright sunny days in Italy and Greece and only the occasional shower of rain in England.

Unfortunately, their few days in the south of France had been blighted by heavy rains. However, they'd still managed to have a great time, spending long hours at lunch consuming five course meals of rich French dishes with thick sauces and mouth-watering flavors. They'd giggled like schoolgirls over particularly risqué exhibits in the museums. They'd even spent an afternoon at a youth hostel talking until the early hours of the morning with a Swiss couple who'd both won Olympic medals for downhill skiing. Still, they'd never managed to see the Riviera like this. Rory had seen it the following year, but it hadn't been with her.

Rory. Lorelai sighed, a wistful smile crossing her face. She hoped that they could return to some semblance of their former relationship when she returned home. Lorelai had left for Europe following Rory's court date where she'd received a metaphorical slap on the wrist after the twin maneuverings of Richard Gilmore and Mitchum Huntzberger had worked their magic on Rory's and Logan's behalf. She and Rory had been in tentative e-mail contact since that time. To her surprise, a month after Lorelai had left, Rory's attitude had undergone a sea change. Her kid had shown the determination she'd always known she had and had gotten an internship over the summer, on her own merits and not as the result of a wealthy connection. There she'd rediscovered her journalistic fervor and had even managed to have an article published. Lorelai hoped that meant that Rory would return to Yale in the fall, although she was reluctant to bring it up at this point given their current uneasy relationship.

Lorelai sighed, draining the dregs of the coffee in her cup and looked around for a waiter to order a refill. Big surprise, he wasn't in sight. The French weren't known for their overt friendliness and the waiters in Cannes had the reputation for being notoriously aloof. Still Lorelai, never adverse to a challenge, had been coming to this café every day for a month and the waiters were starting to remember her. The service was still slow, but she'd managed to learn enough French to order the coffee and pay the bill without resorting to speaking in the loud-voiced English she had noticed some of the other tourists trying out. In response, she'd received the occasional smile and she often snagged the best table in the house, close to the water and away from the noise of the rest of the café. Besides, the coffee here was wonderful. It was strong and bitter but had a completely different flavor to Luke's, which was exactly why she was drinking it. She had enough trouble trying not to think about home without that constant reminder.

Two tables away sat a man of about her age, wearing a tailored suit, designer sunglasses and sporting a skillfully disheveled haircut. He'd been watching her for the last half hour and she knew that he was probably going to come over to try to meet her, having recognized all the signs. When she'd first arrived in Cannes she'd gone out several times with a group of people from the Durham Group. The group had been friendly and she'd quite enjoyed herself until they were joined by another man who'd spotted her from across the room, and was determined he was going to show her a good time.

She'd been far away from home, lonely, missing Rory, Stars Hollow and Luke so she'd talked to him for much of the night. He'd taken a friendly conversation for a more romantic interest and tried to take it further as their group left the bar. Some quick talking had gotten her out of an awkward situation and she'd been more aloof since then, friendly but never taking more than a polite interest in any masculine approaches. She noticed that Mr Smooth from two tables away was about to make his move. Hastily flagging down the waiter as he finally appeared before her, she paid her bill, gathered up her paperwork and moved away before he could intercept her. She walked across the street to the path that ran alongside the beach and began to walk, her destination unknown, feeling the need to just keep moving.

Over the last few months, she'd become good friends with Amelie, a bouncy French woman with an English husband who was involved in promotion for the Durham group. She too loved to travel and Lorelai had found herself with her own personal tour guide on the weekends. With Amelie as her guide, she'd seen the grandeur of the Alps and the villages of Provence, enthralled by the sights of both. However, the work had been challenging as well. The first month she'd traveled to Venice, Prague and Rome before spending the next month in Cannes. She'd offered a fresh American perspective on the hospitality industry and found that her experiences from opening the Dragonfly were valuable commodities. She should have been having the time of the life, living the high life that people seemed to think she'd longed for. But she wasn't.

She'd loved the travel, the opportunity to see the people and places so different to what she'd been accustomed. She'd even liked having a glimpse of how other people in her industry worked; about how much easier tasks could be accomplished with the sort of wealth controlled by the Durham Group. And she thought that once or twice a year she would still like to consult for them. But the last two months had proven that this wasn't the life for her.

Lorelai stopped walking now as she noticed an ice cream vendor ahead of her. Ice cream had been one of the first French words she'd learned. A girl had to have her priorities right after all. She bought a cone of chocolate ice cream and sat down on a seat over looking the beach to consume it. As she sat there, she became entranced by the people in front of her. A woman, about her age had been reclining on one of the many deck chairs that were set up on the beach. Seemingly alone and carefree she was reading a magazine and basking in the afternoon sun when suddenly a man, wet from the water, appeared next to her, dripping water over her magazine. They appeared to argue before the woman grinned and wrestled playfully as he caught her up to carry her to the water's edge and dunk her in.

Another man and woman were strolling at the water's edge, holding between them the hands of a tiny child who was taking its first tentative steps. Almost directly in front of her was an elderly couple. They were slowly walking down the beach hand-in-hand, barely noticing those around them, as they were instead absorbed in each other. Lorelai felt a wave of loneliness wash over her. She missed Luke. Although she and Luke talked every couple of days, the conversations were usually on neutral topics, each of them willfully ignoring anything emotionally fraught. Lorelai knew she'd shocked Luke when she proposed almost three months ago. She had been hurt when he'd walked to the door, locked it against the intrusions of Kirk or Taylor or a horde of cyclists and sat down at the table beside her before telling her he didn't think they were ready. She'd been ready to run then, but he'd stopped her and they'd talked instead. He'd been worried that she'd proposed out of fear, out of desperation. She'd tried to explain that instead it had opened her eyes. That even with all of the other things going on in her life, she'd wanted him, with her everyday. That it wasn't out of fear, but as a result of the realization that this was what she wanted, and that Luke was as much her family as Rory.

But she knew he'd been afraid, that if he said yes, she'd eventually find an excuse to run. Somehow after their reconciliation, they'd forgotten to discuss the most important element for an enduring relationship: the possibility of a future together. So after her proposal, they'd talked about their future seriously, for the first time ever really. They'd discussed the possibility of selling the Inn, the pregnancy scare, Twickham house and the possibility of kids, about Rory and her future.

But Luke had asked for some time, asked for her to seriously think about their future. He told her he didn't want her to spend her life regretting a missed chance, to turn down the possibility of consulting. To spend her life regretting a question he still believed was a reaction to the actions of Rory and her parents, however much she denied it. So she'd phoned Mike Armstrong and asked for a two-month trial going to Europe as a short term consultant. In her heart, she knew that she wanted to marry Luke but some time away from her parents, from Rory and Stars Hollow had probably been a good thing. She needed to gain some perspective and in her time away she certainly had.

She knew it sounded corny but it turned out there really was no place like home. She wanted to go to her beloved Dragonfly Inn and gossip with Sookie in the kitchen or find new and strange ways to torture Michel. She wanted to sit in the town square and laugh at the people getting drunk on the Founders Day party punch at the Firelight Festival. More than almost anything she wanted to talk to Rory for hours on the phone about everything and nothing, not having to hang up until her daughter had to rush off to another lecture at Yale. But what she wanted most of all was Luke.

She wanted to walk into the diner and listen to him grumble about this being her fifth cup of coffee for the day and that chocolate chip pancakes really shouldn't be her breakfast choice for the fourth day in a row. She wanted him to rant and rave at Taylor about another madcap town festival. She wanted him to sit on the couch with her at home, his arm around her shoulders as they watched another B grade movie that she had conned him into seeing. She wanted him to fall asleep in her bed, his arms holding her close. She knew she wanted this for the rest of her life.

Lorelai noticed she had finished her ice cream long ago and had been staring off into the distance for some time. She stood up and began walking quickly back along La Croisette to the hotel where she was staying. She barely noticed the brilliance of the water and the sky now. She was tired of waiting. Though she'd loved her time abroad, she'd also been waiting for the day she could go home since she'd arrived. She had another few days left here, but thought that perhaps she could get away by tomorrow. She was eager for her future to start and she wanted to go home to her family, to Rory and to Luke. Her pace quickened as she entered the hotel where she'd spent the last month. She'd known all along what she wanted. Now she was going to go home to get it.

**TBC**

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.  
- John Howard Payne


	2. Where Thou Art

**Disclaimer** Still not mine. 

**A/N** Thank you so much to everyone who commented on part one. Your reviews made my day! My thanks again to three excellent betas **NicoleMack, Monnie** and **Undisclosed**.

**Part Two: Where Thou Art**

Fifty-two days down, only three more to go. Luke wandered over the door of the diner, locking it and turning the sign to "Closed". It was late, and his last customer had left an hour ago. Outside, the streets were almost empty, with only the occasional person dashing down the street to escape the rain that had been persistently falling for the last two days. He moved back behind the counter and into the kitchen to clean up as had been his routine for the last who knew how many years.

Only three more days until he found out if she would be returning for good or making a decision that could mean she was leaving him for good. In the last fifty-two days he had had a running battle with himself, trying to work out what emotion he was feeling most prominently as each day went by. Happiness that each passing day brought him closer to the day that she would return, bringing back with her joy and warmth and more than her fair share of craziness; or dread that she would decide to sell the Inn, that Stars Hollow wasn't the place where she wanted to be or that he wasn't the person she wanted to be with.

Luke sighed as he drew a weary hand across the stubble on his face. His shoulders ached; he felt old. For the past week, he had felt drained of energy, as what he considered to be the Day of Judgment drew nearer. It had always been in his nature to get on with life and take each day as it came, as it had seemed easier to him that way. A lifetime of his loved ones leaving through death, like his parents, or by choice, like Rachel, Jess and Liz, had meant that he lived for the moment, without thinking too much about the next week, month or year.

But as his relationship with Lorelai had developed, he had found himself considering his future more often; especially when they had reconciled after that stupid incident at her parents' wedding. For the first time, he'd actually started to think about having kids, that maybe, with that right person, he was ready for 'the discussion' and that he was ready to deal with jam hands and all they entailed. However, in all his plans for the future, he'd somehow forgotten the most important thing. He'd forgotten to find out what Lorelai wanted.

It had been a strange few days what with Rory's meltdown (complete with the stolen boat and Yale-related fallout), the shock of finding out about Lorelai's job offer and the possibility that she would sell the Inn, his stupid plan to surprise Lorelai with a house and then backing out of said deal with Taylor. To top it all off was the most astonishing occurrence of all, the event that had completely floored him; Lorelai had proposed.

Luke finished cleaning the kitchen and headed back into the diner to wipe down the tables and refill the condiments bottles. Unbidden, his gaze drifted to the place that Lorelai had sat, with hope and what he had thought was also desperation in her eyes. It took a hell of a lot to surprise him, but her words had stopped him cold. That wasn't to say that he hadn't thought about marriage, but he hadn't expected her to be the one to propose to him and certainly not just then.

Turning his back on the table, Luke wiped down the counter vigorously instead, before heading over to clean out the coffee pot. Once the shock had worn off, they'd talked until the early hours of the next morning. The more they had talked, however, the more it had become obvious that they'd been keeping secrets from each other. Although they had had years of friendship where Lorelai had talked to him about almost anything, it seemed that now they were together, they'd both forgotten to communicate about the most important of things. So he'd told her about the Twickham house and she had revealed the pregnancy scare. As with each time he thought about that revelation, he hastily pushed down a feeling of disappointment that she hadn't told him about it sooner, before the thought that he was scarcely one to cast the first stone quickly followed behind.

In the end, though, Luke came back to the same thing: it hadn't been the right time. There were so many issues for both of them to deal with; for Lorelai in particular. However much Lorelai said she didn't want to sell the Inn, he didn't want her to regret a missed opportunity. He didn't want to hold her back. He knew he wouldn't be able to bear it if she decided, a couple of years down the road, that she wanted more than this town. More than him. Particularly since her proposal had come in the face of her conflict with Rory and her parents. Her parents, he didn't know how to deal with. He knew they didn't like him, value him, or accept him. He could live with that, and he felt that Lorelai could too. But he didn't want what should have been one of the best moments in his life to have come about because Lorelai thought that she had lost Rory, the most important person in her world. Therefore some time away had seemed the best thing, in order to gain perspective and to try out the job opportunity.

At least Lorelai and Rory had reconciled somewhat before she left for Europe and through his conversations with Lorelai while she'd been gone, he knew that they were in contact by e-mail. He had only seen Rory once in the diner in that time. She'd come in about a month after Lorelai had left, with tears in her eyes, a sheet of paper in her hand.

He'd struggled with himself, unsure whether he should say anything to her, but in the end he had merely headed over to give her a cup of coffee. Without talking, she had handed the paper to him. It had been an e-mail from Lorelai, telling Rory that no matter what she did she would always be proud of her. She knew her daughter could do anything she put her mind to and she shouldn't let her future be decided by one man who didn't even know her. Lorelai knew her and Lane, Sookie, Jackson, Miss Patty, Babette, and even Kirk knew her. And Luke knew her. And they all knew what she was capable of, and their opinions were the ones that mattered. But what was most important of all, was what Rory herself felt she was capable of.

Rory had looked up at Luke and asked him what he thought she was capable of. He'd replied with one word: "Anything."

She had smiled at him for a second and replied, "That's what I think, too."

He'd given her another cup of coffee to go and hadn't seen her since, but he knew from Lane and from Lorelai that she'd been working as an intern since then and that Lorelai was hopeful she was going to return to Yale. The mother-daughter closeness was not yet what it once was, but if anyone could work it out, it would be those two.

That didn't leave him any closer to solving his own problems however. At times he felt like kicking himself, like ranting and raving as he usually did at Taylor. Sometimes, he cursed himself for saying that they weren't ready and that they needed to wait until they'd both had some time to think about what had happened those past few weeks. Why the hell had he said that? But it always came back to the same thing: he didn't want to say yes only to discover that Lorelai regretted her rash proposal and for it all to end with her running away from him. Then he'd be left alone. Again. He just hoped that when she did come home in three days, she wouldn't have changed her mind.

Finally finishing his cleaning up for the night, Luke tossed his cloth in the kitchen sink and headed towards the back to turn the diner lights off before heading upstairs. As he did so however, he heard a persistent tapping at the door. Who on earth could that be at this time of night? He trudged over to the door and peered through the blind, freezing when he saw who it was. Huddled at the step under a black umbrella was Lorelai. She was peering anxiously through the door, her hands clutching the handle of the umbrella tightly.

For a moment, Luke was unable to move as he soaked up his first sight of Lorelai in what seemed like an eternity. Then finding momentum once again, Luke fumbled at the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. He took a step back and allowed Lorelai to enter before closing the door behind her. She closed the umbrella, placing it by the door and then stood there looking up at him. Her hair was down and was curled slightly from the rain outside, framing her upturned face. Her hands were by her sides, clenching and unclenching with nervous energy. For long moments neither of them moved. Then whatever ties held them back seemed to break and they were in each other's arms, holding on tightly to each other. Lorelai had one arm around his neck, the other clutching the soft flannel covering his chest. Luke's arms were wrapped around Lorelai, his hands splayed across her back.

His eyes shut, Luke savored the feeling of Lorelai in his arms, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she tucked it into his neck. He only loosened his grip when he felt her stir in his arms. Pulling back slightly, he stared into her eyes, his face breaking into its first smile for more than seven weeks. Her face was inches from his and her expression mirrored his own.

"Lorelai," he muttered before pulling her closer to him, one hand coming up to cradle her face before he lowered his lips onto hers. She responded instantly, her mouth opening under his, the hand around his neck moving higher to knock his cap to the ground. They kissed hungrily, almost desperately, Luke pushing her back against the diner door. Eventually Luke pulled his lips away from Lorelai's to trail soft kisses across her jaw before continuing down to push away the damp collar of her shirt to nuzzle her neck.

"Luke, wait," Lorelai gasped, speaking for the first time. Luke froze, stopping instantly. Loosening his grip on her he moved a short distance away, running a hand through his disheveled hair and trying to catch his breath. He dreaded hearing what she had to say, but then she moved forward, her hands clutching at his.

"Now the last time I asked this, the scene didn't turn out quite the way I had imagined," she began, her tone confident, but her hands trembling. "This time, I'm hoping that we've both read the same script." She took a deep breath. "Luke, regardless of whatever else happens in my life with Rory, I will always be there for her and she for me. And you Luke, I want to be there for you. You are such an important part of my family now and I want that for the rest of my life. I don't want a full-time consulting job. I liked the travel, but I love this town more. I love _you_ much more. Luke, will you marry me?"

The expression on her face was full of hope, and this time, Luke didn't see any desperation. What he saw was peace and love. He smiled, a genuine smile he was sure was unlike any he had worn before. He probably looked like an idiot, but he didn't care. Without hesitation, he pulled Lorelai into his arms again and said firmly. "Yes Lorelai, I will marry you."

She returned the hug strongly before muttering into his shoulder. "Whew! Right answer."

Luke laughed softly in her hair before muttering gruffly, "I love you, Lorelai." She tightened her grip on him, nodding in his chest to acknowledge that she'd heard him.

They stood there for long minutes before they finally pulled away from each other. Lorelai wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes and allowed Luke to lead her over to the counter to sit down.

"What are you doing back so soon? I thought you weren't supposed to be back for another three days," Luke asked, his voice rough with restrained emotion.

She smiled up at him. "Caffeine withdrawal. You know, Europeans may claim to have the world's best coffee, but theirs doesn't stand a chance next to yours."

Luke wandered back to the door to pick up his baseball cap, fixing it firmly on his head before heading back to the counter.

"Don't you know how bad that stuff is for you?" he grumbled, willingly slipping back into their old routine.

"I plan on spending the rest of my life finding out," Lorelai replied brightly.

Luke turned away to brew a fresh pot of coffee, then opened the fridge to pull out a piece of cherry pie that had been left over from that day. It wasn't the freshest, but he was pretty sure Lorelai wouldn't mind. Putting it on a plate, he slid it across to her, smiling as he saw her face light up.

"My hero!"

She began eating immediately and he watched, the tight feeling that had been gripping his chest for the past fifty-two days slowly beginning to ease. Turning back to the coffee maker, he poured her a cup of coffee and smiled at the ecstatic expression on her face as she took her first sip.

He took a deep breath. "So, no selling the Inn and living the high life on the Riviera then?"

Lorelai shook her head emphatically. "Nope. You know, the glamour of Europe just can't compare with Firelight Festivals, re-enactments and dance marathons." She paused before glancing up at him. "I wouldn't mind doing a week or two of consulting every year though. They're happy for me to do that and the money is great."

Luke nodded. As long as she wanted him, whatever else she wanted was fine by him. Who knew, maybe he would even shock the hell out of her and actually come along on one of those trips.

She ate another bite of cherry pie and then hesitated briefly before asking, "Luke those jam hands you thought you'd have a short discussion about with the right person. Did you have any idea when such a discussion would be?" She rushed on before he could reply. "Cause I was thinking that might be nice, you know, in maybe another year or two?"

Luke leaned his hands on the counter and replied, "I was thinking something like that myself." They smiled idiotically at each other for a moment before he continued. "You know, we'll actually have to live together when we get married. Do you think your house can handle a full-time male occupant?"

Lorelai smiled, "I'm sure if I give the house plenty of warning and I break it to it gently, remind it that said male occupant has been looking after it for years, it might come around. So……you don't want the Twickham house, then?"

Luke had had plenty of time to think about that damn house and now he really didn't know what he had been thinking. It was way too big and grand for him. If they needed a bigger house in a few years, they could deal with it then.

"Nah, not really. Too big. Besides, your house and I have an understanding. Anything breaks, I fix it. It holds itself together for about a month then falls apart again. We've got ourselves a nice routine going now."

"Our house," Lorelai replied quickly.

"Our house," Luke echoed. He knew they still had a lot to discuss, particularly about Rory and Lorelai's parents, not to mention how they would react to news of their engagement, but that could wait until the next day. They had plenty of time now. "You know if you've just gotten off a plane, you must be exhausted. We should head up to bed so you can sleep."

Lorelai stood, sauntering around the counter to stand closely next to Luke. Her voice dropped provocatively. "Bed sounds like a great idea, but the very last thing I want to do in it is sleep."

With that she reached up and pulled his head down for a deep kiss. Luke drew Lorelai to him then they stumbled quickly up the stairs, pausing at the door to the apartment to start shedding their clothes. Finally they made it into the room, falling onto the bed, eager to make up for lost time. Before Luke became completely distracted, it occurred to him that he should give her the ring that had been sitting in the drawer beside his bed for the last few months. But as Lorelai shed her shirt and began to work on his jeans, he pushed it to the back of his mind. There'd be plenty of time for that tomorrow. After all, they had the rest of their lives now.

**End**

Where thou art – that - is home.  
- Emily Dickinson

**A/N** I really hope that Lorelai doesn't go away for the summer on the show, but after this idea got into my head, I just had to write it down. I also have to confess after years of reading in various fandoms, this is the first fan fic I've written. It's been fun!


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